


Entanglements

by 221A_brina



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221A_brina/pseuds/221A_brina
Summary: Therealreason Jack didn't stay for a nightcap after "Murder a la Mode."





	Entanglements

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the end of S2E5 "Murder a la Mode" - the dangerous dress/lethal hour scene.

The fashion show at the House of Fleuri was a rousing success (despite the thefts and murders preceding it) and the Fleuri sisters had finally reached a détente. 

The final case paperwork had been signed and filed. The only remaining loose end to tie up was the return of Miss Fisher's Columbian emerald and diamond necklace. 

Miss Fisher had looked especially tantalizing in her couture gown. A dress with a snug fitting lining (of silk perhaps?), which had an overlay of sheer black and golden flowered lace, its texture begging to be touched. The skirt combined a long center chevron segment bookended by a handkerchief hemmed skirt that was shorter on each side. The train on the back of the dress was a confection of golden avocado netting which had a large flounce at the hips that cascaded down in two levels to end on the floor, trailing behind the wearer. The pièce de résistance? An intricately interconnected latticework of black bead strands at the décolletage which created the illusion of a collar and cap sleeves that dripped with golden citrine gems and beads. The ensemble was crowned with amber teardrop earrings and a matching amber feather fascinator which gave off the appearance of a flower in full bloom. 

When Detective Inspector Jack Robinson dropped by Wardlow that evening to return Miss Fisher's necklace, he had a number of things on his mind. Most of which involved Miss Phryne Fisher in some way, shape or form. Her very lovely form, to be exact. 

He rapped three times on the door and it was immediately opened by Mr. Butler. Upon entering, he glanced up to spy the lady of the house poised on the staircase several steps up. Jack raised the necklace, jewels dripping down his long fingers, and advanced towards her. "The police photographer is finished with your necklace." 

She turned slightly, angling towards him as he approached. "Didn't suit his outfit?" Phryne countered with cheek and charm. 

He reached up to place the jewelry in her hand, their fingers brushing together creating a delicate rush of pins and needles. "I'll never again dismiss the fashion world as frivolous." He'd never conceived how 'cut throat' a business it could be... _Or,_ he amended, _in this particular case, a hairpin to the throat._  

After nestling the necklace into her palm, he added, "It all looks harmless enough, but you never know what lurks beneath." He dipped his head and looked up at her with hooded eyes. 

"Usually lingerie." Her response was quick and direct, sending the volley back to him. 

"Equally dangerous," Jack countered, this time with a hint of a smile. As for what kind of lingerie might lurk behind that dress, he couldn't hazard a guess. _Whatever it might be, it most definitely would pose a hazard._

"Just one dress can be lethal." Miss Fisher stood her ground, daring him to... 

His eyes boldly raked her body from head to toe, sending shivers up her spine. She was seductive, perilous and most certainly lethal. Exquisite from head to toe. 

"Nightcap?" she asked, hoping he'd continue their banter and rise to the next level. _So... tell me Jack... what will it be? A daring and dangerous dance? More_ _lasciviously_ _lethal looks?_  

"Perhaps at another time. At a less dangerous hour." _Then again,_ he thought wryly, **_A_** _ **NY** time_ _spent with Miss_ _Fi_ _sher_ _was inherently dangerous. It was all part and parcel of The Honorable_ _Miss Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective._ "In a less lethal dress." The inspector stood his ground, daring her to counter. His eyes solid glistening onyx orbs; all color hidden beneath enlarged pupils. 

_Jack Robinson! You cunningly clever man. I see behind your supposedly stolid veneer. Touché. Until next time, dear Inspector,_ Phryne ruminated, smiling, a knowing glint edging her eyes. 

Without another word, Jack turned, ducked his head and exited. He donned his hat and pushed open the gate. As he turned to close it, he gazed at the front door which Mr. Butler had just clicked shut. 

He'd been prepared to 'up his game' and take a next step with Miss Fisher. Though he'd said he'd not dismiss the fashion world as frivolous, he did wonder, in the instance of Lady Archdale's (now Phryne's) ballgown, about the impracticality of some of these creations. For instance, how ever was a lady to be able to sit in that dress, let alone sit comfortably? And with the latticework of beads and stones? Surely that concoction came with an instruction manual? Yes? 

As he settled into his motorcar, he thanked the gods for acting in his favor by sparing him any potential embarrassment. Although he was keen to tangle with Miss Fisher in the physical sense, he had no desire for their first time to be an awkward extrication from an extremely complicated and potentially difficult entanglement. One that this particular dressed posed... in spades. 

His next move would have to wait for a much simpler garment because... he thought, smirking, _I'd have no earthly idea how to get her out of that dress._  


End file.
